There Is No 'I' In Winchester, Wait, Yes There Is
by smalld1171
Summary: Dean goes out on a hunt alone against his brother's wishes and, well, that just ain't gonna end well.  To any who read, I hope you will enjoy. Thanks.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! I know, I just can't help myself! This idea sprang up in my brain and took off! This was written in about fifteen minutes so I apologize ahead of time if it sucks :) Feel free to drop me a line with your thoughts on this one, it will help decide for me if another chapter is worth doing. Thanks to any who read and I hope you will enjoy!**

**Of course I do not own anything even vaguely related to Supernatural but I do like to have fun at the boys' expense! :)**

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><p>Great, now Sam is gonna be pissed. Perfect. Nothing I'd rather hear more than a good I told you so speech from the queen of drama herself. Ah well, maybe he'll still be passed out by the time I get back. But even if he's not he should just chillax, I told him I felt fine and I do. He's the one all sniffly and shit. I sure the hell wouldn't have been able to sleep with all the racket and grossness that has been spewing out of his nose all night. No thanks. He's the one that's sick, not me.<p>

Sure, maybe I had a little headache and not much to eat but is that a fricken crime now? I don't give him the gears when he picks at that stupid rabbit food of his. He always has to be so melodramatic. 'Let's rest for tonight'; 'You don't look good.'; 'I think you're catching whatever I have; 'You can't go after it alone, you need back up.'; 'We go together or not at all.' Blah. Blah. Blah.

But, come on man, what the hell was I supposed to do? Just wait around while some poor sap gets chopped up because Sam might think I'm catching a damn cold or some shit? Nah, ain't gonna happen.

I mean it's not like I haven't gone after a stupid ghost by myself before. Sam was gone for a couple years. So what the hell is the big deal anyway? This was a textbook job. Dig up grave. Pour salt and lighter fluid into grave. Ignite match. Throw match. Bu-bye to evil son of a bitch. Been there, done that.

Okay, so maybe I'll give Sam that it didn't go quite as smooth as it could have but that ain't because of a little, itty bitty headache. That is what one would call the curse of the Winchester. Just par for the friggin course. But still, here I am, mission accomplished. The son of a bitch is dead and at the end of the day that's all that really matters. One more fugly put back where they belong and some other average Joe gets to keep on breathing. Not bad for a couple hours work I say.

And really, what are a couple of bruises and a knock to the head in the scheme of things? Job hazard. It's not weird, or unusual, it just is what it is. It's kinda like the law right? Sam will see, no need to worry, big brother has triumphantly thwarted evil for the good of mankind once again; and I have the battle scars to prove it. Okay, less babbling and more leaving the scene of the crime dude.

I can make it back no problem. Sore muscles and aching head aside I came out of this pretty good. Plus, sleeping beauty back at the motel won't have to worry about trudging out here tomorrow to help. Now he can get the rest he needs and so can I, knowing the job is done.

Alright my beautiful baby, let's get out on the open road and check on Samantha. Hopefully he will still be out of it and I can save being on the receiving end of one of his famous lectures, complete with dramatic eye roll. Well, at least until the morning.

Okay, maybe that isn't so good. Two lanes on a one way highway? Alright, fine, I'll pull over but just for a minute until my head clears. Damn headache. Damn eyeballs. There, safe and sound. Huh, maybe that undead bitch wore me out a bit but that's okay, she won't be filleting anyone else so I still win. I'll just shut my eyes for a minute, wait until this damn throbbing in my head cuts me some damn slack!

Damn it, I hate when Sam is right.

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><p><strong>TBC? Will probably be a two or three chapter story, I have too many other on the go to make this one tooooo long and drawn out. Reviews would be awesome! Thanks for stopping by!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi there and welcome back! I hope you will enjoy this chapter. Thanks to all of you for having a look and an extra thanks to those who sent such motivational reviews, I really appreciate it! ENJOY! :)**

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><p>Crap. Okay, whoever has decided to perch on top of my skull and take a jackhammer to it jokes over, you can stop it now. Anytime. Don't make me kick your miniature asses.<p>

Figures. Sam _would_ pick the exact moment that my brain feels like it's gonna burst to finally realize the awesomeness and kick ass beauty that is by my taste in music and turn the damn radio on.

Huh, okay, it stopped… that's better. Thanks Sam.

Frick! Okay, enough with the tunes already dude. Come on man, trying to die quietly over here bro. I'd give you my best glare if I didn't think my eyes would pop out of their damn sockets at the movement it would take to open them.

For the love of…. Why do you keep playing the same damn song over and over?

"Sam..stop it already would ya? Sam?"

Yeah, eyes hurt like a son of a bitch. And it shouldn't take this long to focus right? And dizzy too? Huh, well this blows. Why the hell am I in the car? And where is Sam? And while I'm in the mood to ask myself questions, what happened? I'm here, in the car, alone but did I drive somewhere? Doesn't look familiar…so what… .

Damn it. Just breathe through it. It's just the headache. Don't hurl man. Just breathe. Yeah, that's better, you know you don't want to move too much just yet. Okay, better. Well, that was fun.

This is starting to piss me off. And it's freakin' weird already. I can hear it again, that same damn song. But, the radio, it's not even on. Hell, the car isn't even moving… or running…

Oh, okay, right…cell phone, ring tone, _my_ ring tone… thanks a lot for making me look like a douche… stupid headache. Okay, gotta answer it, gotta make sure Sam's okay.

"Sammy? You okay? What the hell happened? Where are you?"

Man, he sounds like shit. Aw, wait, sounds like he has the damn sniffles. He sounds like… I don't know… some whiny kid who's got a cold. And he sounds like he's in a bitchy mood too. Terrific. Damn kids, always so emotional when they're full of snot. Snot. Huh, that's a funny word. Damn it, okay, exnay on the aughinglay or I'll be pushing my brains back in through my ears after the top of my head pops off.

Shit. Did I say that out loud? Crap, did he just ask me something? C'mon Dean, better focus before he threatens to sneeze on you. Give me a break guys, just tone down the steamroller you got running through my brain for one damn minute so I can hear what Samantha is saying.

"Whad Sa'd?"

"C'mon bro, can't help it, you sound funny dude. Not my fault."

Shit Sam, not so fricken loud.

"Woah, can you please tone down the decibels there Sam, my head aches."

Damn it, nothing like actually handing someone the ammunition they need to fire the unwarranted concern cannon at you. Oh my God, what the hell did I just say?

"I'm good Sam. Just, tell me what happened."

Yeah, right, he's at the motel and I… yeah, I smoked that ghost, literally! But how did I get here again? I don't remember getting into the car… or getting to the car… or anything other than… oh…yeah, facing off with the undead just never works out for me. Kinda remember lighting the match that sent that fugly back but… shit. Sam stopped talking didn't he?

"M'fine S'm…"

And there is the patented Sam Winchester sigh.

"Just a headache man, nothing to worry your pretty little girly head about."

Good question.

"Umm… not sure… on my way back I think…"

And let the damn lecture begin.

"Please, give it a rest okay? I'm fine, just a bit sore and head hurts, nothing I can't handle right? And if I would have waited then some poor bastard would have died so sorry if I couldn't just sit back and let someone else…"

Shit. Damn it, keep it together or Sam will go into his full on mother hen, you should have listened to me and stayed here line of fricken bullshit.

Come on, that is not possible. How can my head feel worse than it did two minutes ago? Sam's interrogation ain't helping any. How can…Ahhh! Son of a bitch! Peachy. Did I just hear myself groan? Yeah, I did, so I guess worry wart heard it too. Fan-freakin-tastic.

Well at least he isn't yelling anymore. Why was he yelling? But what… what the hell happened? What the hell am I doing out here in the car?

"Sam? What's going on? What… what happened?"

What? Right, good one bro.

"No, you did _not_ just explain it to me Sam. I think I would remember something you told me two fricken seconds ago! And for God's sake, please talk softer, my head is killing me."

What? I think you have suddenly mistaken me for some damn kid, of course I can tell you where I am! I'm offended that you are talking to me like I'm some kind of delusional idiot! And just as an FYI, talking slower doesn't really change the result. Um, okay… highway… side of the road… wait, I think I can see the motel sign up ahead.

"M'on the way S'mmy. I can see the light… and not _the _light…not ready for that yet bro. Nah, I mean the motel sign, it's not too far."

Now what the hell is he talking about?

"What? What do you mean? I am making perfect sense. No I didn't, that doesn't happen every time dude."

He wants me to what? Damn, I hate when he uses his nasally, pretty please with sugar on top voice. Fine, I'll look.

Oh no.. nonononono! Can't… please… this is gonna be bad…

"Aaa..aaa…achooo!"

Son of a fricken bitch! Now those asswipes are starting in on my damn side! What is it with you anyways? Just need to look in the mirror and prove Sam wrong. Is that… is he laughing? Well, ain't that sweet...

"Nice Sam, kick a dude when he's…"

No way Sam.

"No, I don't have a cold, just some dust or something, I am not getting sick! You're the one who sounds like you've forgotten how to use half the alphabet!"

Alright already! Sheesh, nag much?

"Yeah, yeah, hang on… I'm looking… just keep your panties on Samantha!"

Okay then, wasn't expecting that. That's a lot of blood. Maybe I did hit my head, hell, I must have, and I guess that would explain the knives cutting into my head. But… crap, then that means… I hate when Sam is right, really gnaws on my nerves.

"Yeah, still here S'm. I guess I hit my head."

Really? Are you that childish?

"Okay Sam, sheesh, I think you're enjoying this. Yes Sam, I appear to be suffering from a concussion. Happy?"

Well, you could at least pretend that you aren't enjoying the fact that you are possibly, maybe, kinda right on this one. But come on dude, no way, I'm not a damsel in distress here; I do not need rescuing when I'm only a mile away. Just stay there and chillax, I'm fine, just a little headache; I've driven in worse shape than this.

"No, no, you just stay there and keep wiping your nose. I'll be right there."

Wait! No, just… shit… damn it Sam, I would never hang up on you! Well screw this! I am not going to sit here and wait for Samsquatch to make an appearance! I'll be back there before he even has a chance to take a leak and head out the door.

Uh, okay, note to self. No sudden movements unless you want to paint the inside of your car with whatever the hell you ate today. Hmm, did I eat today? Can't remember. Maybe I just need some fresh air. Yeah, that'll fix it.

"Mmpf." Oh, okay, hello Mr. Ground, you kinda snuck up on me there. Huh. Well, I hope you don't mind if I crash here for a minute, I can't seem to figure out which way is up. And hey, you don't have anything like aspirin on yeah do you? That would be great.

Alright Sammy, you win. I'll just lay here and wait for the cavalry to show up. I guess maybe I am a bit worse off than I thought seeing how I just tried to make a deal for some aspirin from the damn pavement!

Damn it, this sucks, I hate when Sam is right.

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><p><strong>TBC.. Thanks for stopping by and please review! Thanks!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there. Sorry for the delay, I have been plagued with the inability to find any time to write and with numerous real life stressors. I wanted to update this story and here is the result. I apologize if it seems choppy, I wrote it in about half an hour. I hope you will still enjoy. Thanks for all of you out there who have reviewed and added this on your favourites and alert lists. Take care and thanks for reading! :)**

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><p>Huh. Okay. So, head hurts like a bitch. Hmm... blood. Well, I guess that would explain it. Side? Also hurts like a son of a bitch. Shit, bruised ribs for sure. That's kind of par for the course, but just why in the hell am I laying down and busy getting up close and personal with the damn pavement? Anyone?<p>

That's just… wait, hang on for a second, the car is here. And I am obviously not in the car so what? Were we in an accident? That may explain the lack of brain power I guess. Sam and I were on a job right? So, if I am laying here like some sort of asphalt douche, then where the hell is Sam? Shit, come on brain, time to start up…

"S'm? Sam? SAMMY!" Ow! Son of a bitch… that fricken hurts! Damn it, what the hell did that stupid ass kid get into now? Okay, time to get up and look, maybe he's in the car passed out. Yeah, otherwise he would have answered right? Would have given me shit by now for whatever the hell I did to get us here. But, hang on, did he tell me to wait here? No, he couldn't have, he isn't here. God, maybe he's… maybe… stop it man. Get up and find him. Now!

Woah, okay, just take it easy. Don't pass out before you make sure Sam is okay. Just take your time and focus on reaching the damn door handle… damn it… for shit's sake pick the one that's actually there dumbass! Alright, I knew I could do it! I am awesome.

Huh. Dizzy, double vision, headache, blood… Great, fricken perfect, another concussion. Maybe hunters should keep records on how many they get over the course of their short lifetime. We would be the perfect test subjects. Shut up idiot. Just look. Sammy? No sign of him. So, where the hell did he go? Shit, he must be in trouble. He must be… just move your pansy ass Dean and find him!

"SAMMY!"

Come on bro, where the hell are you? How'd we even get out here? We were… we were… um… hunting? Well of course we were hunting idiot, we are hunters right? Okay, arguing with yourself is probably not a good idea. Maybe I'll just retrace my steps right? How hard could it be?

So it's true then, thinking actually does make my head hurt. Who knew? Shit. Damn it. No. Don't. That's gonna hurt like…. "Achoo!" Mother of a demon piece of crap! Definitely pissed off some ribs in there dude. So now I can't even drive my damn car without getting the shit beat out of me? That's… that's just wrong. Woah. Stop moving. Everything can stop moving now. Please. Sam, are you okay? Where the frick are you?

Keep moving man, crawl if you have to cuz he's out here somewhere and he needs you. Don't stop.

For the love of... Concussions. Hate 'em. Totally. They suck ass. And it hurts to breathe. And move. And… shit, keep it inside dude, just keep it…. Aw hell, it's coming this time. Oh lookie, a nice tree branch to hang on to while I….shit, that is just gross. Okay, just breathe. Just breathe. Have to find Sammy.

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><p>I guess it's too much to ask. I mean I shouldn't be surprised but come on! Can't that dumbass listen to me just once in his life? Mr. Macho, not gonna let anything get in my way, don't worry it's just a ghost so what could possibly happen bullshit idiot just can't stop himself. Stupid,reckless and maddening as hell Dean just can't take one day off? Oh no, of course not. Can't let anything like getting sick to where his reflexes and instincts are shot to hell deter him from willingly serving himself up on a god damn platter for some skanky undead piece of trailer trash!<p>

And then there's me, lucky, lucky me. First of all, who the hell does that ass think he is, giving me a lecture about how he couldn't just sit around like me and stand by while another victim got hacked up? What the hell is that supposed to mean anyways? Does he think that he is the only one who cares about stopping these evil sons of bitches?

I mean really, after everything I have done in the wasting of the undead department? Please, he needs to give his damn ego a rest. Man, what an arrogant ass. I mean should I have just gone traipsing around after dark, knowing perfectly well I wasn't on my best game, and hope that I came out on top? I'm not a damn robot like him! Okay, that may have been a bit harsh but I can't help it. He pisses me off to no end with his level of bullshit. And he knows all the right buttons to push and never hesitates to press them over and over again.

And secondly, here I am, sick as a dog and forced to leave the warmth and relative comfort of the motel to start walking. Yup, here I am, going out in the middle of the friggin night to save his sorry ass because he just couldn't wait. Just couldn't go with my plan.

Boy oh boy, there's nothing like some 'freeze my balls off' temperatures to help someone recover from a head cold. He better hope he's in rough shape or I'm gonna beat him up myself.

Brrr.. great, I almost forgot how lovely seeing my breath can be as I stroll along a country road, just waiting for some psycho to finish me off. But, here I am anyways, all because my stubborn, pain in the ass big brother can't listen to me one time! He has been running himself ragged and now not only am I going to have to repair whatever injuries he managed to get, but put up with his whiny bullshit that he has no problem dishing out when he's got a stupid cold. Sure, he can be Mr. Tough Guy to a fault when he is practically torn in half by some stupid Wendigo, but he turns into a five year old when he's sick. It is just ass backwards. Well, welcome to Happy Land Sam, where every ride is a damn rollercoaster.

Okay, finally, there's the car. And just why in the hell is the damn door open? Dean, you were supposed to wait for me damn it! Shit. C'mon Dean, be okay. Don't you have gone and done something stupid just to avoid the lecture that you are so gonna get. Where the hell is he?

"DEA'B?" Stupid cold. Son of a bitch. Come out, come out wherever you are. Please bro, give me the chance to say I told you so.

"SAMMY! SAM? Where? Come on… please man, give me a hint already. Enough hiding, just come out and get back in the car. SAM! Are you hurt? Did… do you know what happened? Can you hear me? SAM!"

What the hell is he doing over there? In the trees? Okay, well, at least he's still breathing but something tells me he's on one hell of a concussion induced trip right now. Well, he doesn't look too hot. More like a warmed over pile of dog shit. That tree branch looks like it's the only thing keeping him vertical.

"Dea'b?"

Okay, at least he sees me. But, that ain't good. Big gash on his head; eyes don't look focused at all. Nice, it looks like he's even made a deposit of stomach contents on the ground. And, last but not least, he is favouring his side. Perfect. Concussion, check. Bruised ribs, check. Level on the stubborn ass chart, confirmed. I wish he would just accept that he is actually human and needs to rest and take care of himself. I guess I'll just have to subtly remind him that now, because he lied and went out anyways, he will be out of commission for a few days when he could have been killing all kinds of monsters and shit. I plan to fill him in on that little revelation as soon as he knows what the hell planet he is actually on. And judging by his sluggish movements and lack of smart ass comments, that could take a little while.

"S'my? You okay? Sound funny. Whatever, just, thank god, I… I thought maybe, uh, I don't know… don't remember the crash, just… it's good to see ya bro… g'd t'see… achoo!"

Crash? So, definitely on vacation from planet Earth right now. Which means this is gonna be one hell of a long night.

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><p><strong>TBC... Thanks for stopping by, reviews would be awesome and most appreciated! :)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi and yes, it has been a long time, sorry about that. Sorry for the short chapter but I wanted to get back into the swing of this story so this is what I came up with. I hope to keep the momentum going and get more chapters out sooner than later. Thank you to each of you who have taken the time to read and send me your thoughts, I really appreciate it! :)**

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><p>"So S'm? What…. happened? Did you get thrown out of the car? Sure you're okay man?"<p>

Damn, I hate that. Sam. I hate when he tilts his head and thinks so hard that those weird crinkles line up in row on his forehead. Shit, I know that look. He's gauging me, probably gonna come over here and talk to me like I am fricken five. Jesus, here we go. Yup, just like damn clockwork. He's giving me the once over, looking me up and down with that over the top concerned gaze of his. He thinks there is something wrong with me. But I'm good, just like always. Hell, as long as his freakishly overgrown self is safe and intact, I'm fricken perfect. That's all that matters.

Great, now he's on his knees staring me in the damn face. What ever happened to privacy dude? Jesus, don't snap your damn fingers in my face, kinda hard not to see you when you're ginormous form is blocking out everything else.

"M'fine S'mmy."

And there it is, look number two. It's his patented 'I think your lying' stare. I'm not. So what, maybe my head has an orchestra blasting away in it; maybe I'm a tad on the unsteady side; maybe my ribs are sore and my stomach has decided to rebel against me, but so what. Just another day in the life. In my life. So, I'll just give him a thumbs up and a firm slap on the shoulder and we can blow this popsicle stand.

Back off man, I can sure as hell get up on my own, I ain't no fricken invalid.

Damn it, when did it get so dark and when the hell did I buy a ticket to the 'let's see how fast we can spin Dean until he passes out' ride. This sucks ass. Ah hell, not Mr. Ground again, this dude is starting to piss me off.

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><p>Typical. Stupid, stubborn, pain in the ass brother. He looks like he's gone, oh I don't know, about twenty rounds with a damn werewolf or some shit and still he feels the compulsion and duty to make sure I'm okay. What an idiot. Oh well, why should I suddenly expect anything different. Hell, I'll be seventy and he'll still be putting me ahead of everything else, chasing away all the evils in the world using his damn walker. Huh, that's a good one, as if either of us have a snowball's chance of actually lasting that long.<p>

Time to get my big, concussed out of his freakin gourd brother back to the car so I can patch up his sorry ass again; so he can add yet another scar to his abundantly overstocked collection.

God, his head must hurt like a bitch for him to actually be squinting. Shit, I can almost feel the headache from here. Oh wait, I can, but that's because I have my very own to contend with due to the fact that here I am, out in the middle of the night saving his bacon again, when both of us should be safe and sound and injury free back at the motel.

Okay man, just breathe, put it on the back burner for now cuz by the looks of him, your self-sacrificing brother is about two seconds away from passing out.

I think he can see me but his eyes are looking pretty glazed over. No wonder he doesn't know what's going on. Okay, okay, so he's still got his usual charm and some piss and vinegar left in him, nearly took me out with that death glare just from a snap of my fingers.

Unbelievable. He's fine. Yeah, of course he is. Why wouldn't he be? He just can't give up the act of how he is fine and that this entire situation is fricken dandy. Well alright then bro, suit yourself, we'll see how far you can manage on your own. You wanna show me how in perfect shape you are then go right ahead, I dare you to get up unassisted.

Well shit, even I didn't see that coming. Dean Winchester, defender of the world and his baby brother, face down in the damn dirt. I hope your pride is worth it man.

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><p><strong>TBC... Thanks for stopping by and feel free to send me your thoughts if you so wish! :D<strong>


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